


Drabble Challenge Fills

by furiously



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Character Death, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiously/pseuds/furiously
Summary: A collection of single- and multi-drabble prompt fills written for weekly drabble challenges, ranging between 100 and 500 words.





	1. Presentation (Eric/Santino, 400 words)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: luminous, rain, current, liberate.

"Wait." Santino's voice called him back, his hand catching Eric's.

"What?"

"You look consumptive. Come here."

"Oh, that's nice," Eric huffed, but he turned back and sat down on the edge of the tub as directed.

Santino chuckled. "You know what I mean."

Santino's hands were gentle as he brought a soft sponge in even, sweeping strokes across Eric's face and neck, spreading a thin layer of foundation over luminous, bone-white skin. Eric opened his eyes, smiling to see the focused expression on his lover's face. A brush and some faintly pink powder was carefully applied to his cheekbones, Santino as intent as an artist.

Eric would have to take an umbrella now, to protect his makeup from the rain.

"Am I done?" he asked hopefully, but Santino only smiled and picked up another vial.

"Don't talk."

Eric tried not to smile at the wet, tickling sensation as a small brush passed gently over his mouth and covered up the pallor of his lips, which at his current age were hardly darker than his face. No matter how often he wore paints, it still felt wrong to put anything inedible on his mouth. He thought wistfully of the centuries after the first Great Burning, when he'd been so tan as to be able to forgo disguises entirely. It had been surprisingly liberating.

"There." Santino sat back to inspect his handiwork. "Now you'll pass."

"I still say this would be a lot easier if you'd only let me spend an hour or two in the sun."

"No."

"Half an hour. I don't see the problem, it's not like it can kill me." Eric met Santino's dark eyes stubbornly. They'd had this conversation before.

"It can hurt you. It will hurt you. It's not worth it."

"I'll heal! I won't even blister, Santo, I swear. I'll just tan a little, and then--"

"You can't know that. What if you miscalculate? You'll get trapped up there, and I won't be awake to help."

Eric sighed. There was real worry in Santino's face, in the lines of his shoulders. He knew he couldn't force this issue if Eric insisted. The anxiety was coming off him so clearly Eric didn't even need telepathy.

"All right."

Santo was right -- it wasn't worth it. Still...

He darted in to press a kiss to Santino's mouth, leaving him sputtering at the bitter taste of lip tint. Eric laughed.


	2. Festive (Gen, 100 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: harmony

_"God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay... Remember Christ our Saviour was really born in May..."_  
  
Mael stopped singing, throwing his hands up.  
  
_"Or maybe it was April, but it wasn't Christmas Day..."_

Santino shook his head, but kept playing the piano as Jesse made a valiant effort to sustain a harmony and a straight face.  
  
_"...O tidings of comfort and joyyyy."_  
  
Eric's voice faded, and a deep silence filled the parlor, broken only by Mael's heavy sigh. Maharet and Santino shared a look. Jesse finally succumbed to giggles.  
  
Eric looked around for support.  
  
"Well, come on!"


	3. Reprisal (Eric/Santino, 300 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: court, crown, rebellion. Altered canon a little to include Mael in this scene.

The makeshift court had dissolved, Marius and his fledglings departing almost instantly once the proceedings had erupted into chaos. Pandora and Armand both had been horrified, stunned. Their angry voices had been audible to Mael even after they'd left the house. Then they took to the sky and were gone, pitching the house once more into silence but for Maharet's quiet weeping. His queen was bent and defeated in her sister's arms. Mael's heart ached for her. She'd never wanted the crown, and in this moment he thought he could see it weighing her down, her usually proud head bowed with grief.   
  
Thorne was quiet in his cell. Mael had dragged him there with little difficulty, aided by Marius. With his goal accomplished, the Viking had gone willingly, all thoughts of rebellion against Maharet's rule laid to rest.   
  
None of them had wanted to look at the black pile of ashes on the floor. Maharet was in no state to deal with it, and Mael felt a deep reluctance to even go near it, a dull ache in his heart. It had taken him a little while to recognise it as grief.   
  
More than that, though, he was furious. He wished Jesse were here, that he might hold her close and hide his face in her hair just for a moment, let her gentle touches calm him down. But Jesse would be heartbroken. She was better off where she was.  
  
A faint vibration just on the edge of hearing made his head snap up. A powerful heartbeat, and approaching fast - by air, he knew it. He knew because he'd asked him to come. Mael cursed himself for a fool.  
  
The door banged off the wall as Eric strode into the room, a worried frown on his face.

"What's going on?"


	4. Ally (Riccardo, Armand/Marius, 100 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: waiting

Riccardo is only eighteen, but he's seen more than his share. He knows what happens to young boys in certain houses. He knows how the girls who walk the streets protect each other. The hidden signs; the friend hovering nearby with a stiletto if a client seems dangerous.  
  
He isn't armed. He's a boy of eighteen. And though his mind knows rational philosophy, he understands magic in his  _bones_. He knows there's no contending with it. But he can hover nearby for when it's over. So he sits outside the door, and plays the lute, and doesn't listen in.


	5. Negotiation (Armand/Daniel, 400 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: air, earth, water, fire

The rain had been almost invisible when they left the house, but by the time they'd finished hunting it was a gentle but decided downpour. Daniel looked at Armand as they walked. The water had darkened his hair nearly to black in the dim light, flaring dully into red beneath the street lamps. Every vein in Daniel's body felt warmed by the blood, burning just the right side of toasty, like a hot mug in your hands in December. He revelled in the clarity of the memory for a bit.   
  
If he was honest, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, even now. For the moment when something crucial would be lost, or incomprehensible, or when completely disparate parts of reality would seem to have some obscure connection. But his mind had been quiet for years, and right now, in the warm evening air, it felt like it might stay that way.  
  
He heard Armand's indrawn breath before he spoke.   
  
"Is he..." He began, then stopped. "Marius," he clarified. "Is he... well?"  
  
 _Ah._  "Honestly?" Daniel shrugged. "I don't really know. He's not the most forthcoming about his own weaknesses."  
  
Armand's mouth twisted in acknowledgement.  
  
"But I think he will be. He's better. I'll admit I was pretty worried for a while, but he seems a lot more... with it, these days."  
  
"Since this crisis, you mean?" Armand's dark eyes flicked to him briefly. "Having a purpose is seductive. But once the disaster is over--once Lestat is safely ensconced in his castle and we've finished putting out the fires here--what happens then?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Another brief appraising glance. "Will you stay with him?"  
  
Comprehension dawned like a kindling fire. "Maybe," he said cautiously. "Depends. I'm pretty sure the earth wouldn't stop turning if I did something else for a while."  
  
Armand looked uncharacteristically unsure. "You would both be welcome here, if you wished to stay."  
  
Daniel couldn't help grinning. "You sure you wanna live with him permanently?"  
  
"I would want all of us to gather here. The entire coven." Armand's eyes were large and dark, and Daniel could see each tiny droplet clinging to his eyelashes, his skin, winding their way down a lock of hair at his temple. His own shoes were soaked through. It felt real.  
  
He smiled, stopping and drawing Armand closer. "Okay, boss."  
  
They arrived at Trinity Gate wet to the skin and laughing.


	6. Spoilers (Jesse, David, 100 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ghost

"So." Jesse plants her elbows on the table and picks up her styrofoam cup, inhaling the smell of pumpkin spice. "Ghost founders, huh?"  
  
Across from her, David's face falls comically, his mouth forming a chagrined little moue that nearly cracks her up right there.  
  
"Well, you know what he's like," he complains. "He asked me to think of something, and I'm afraid my imagination simply got the better of me for a moment, and I forgot that the person I was talking to was in fact - well - Lestat."  
  
A beat.  
  
"I'm afraid he rather took the idea and ran with it."


	7. Reverberation (Eric/Santino, 200 words)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: glare, wave

He's sitting on the beach watching the black waves come in when Santino finds him. Eric nearly smiles to see the way he positions his expensive shoes just outside the water's reach. His own feet are submerged and bare.  
  
"I'm leaving." Santino's voice is flat. "Are you coming with me?"  
  
Eric frowns, looking up. "Did you speak with him?"  
  
A small snort is his only answer. Santino's eyes are fixed on the distant villa, its white walls faintly tinted by the neon glare of the shops.  
  
"But you saved him," Eric prods, incredulous. "You risked your own life to save his."  
  
"Well, he has chosen not to acknowledge that."  
  
"It's not his choice to make." Eric's eyes narrow. "He _owes_ you--"  
  
"Eric." Santino says, hands spread in a conciliatory gesture. "It's not important. Let's just go."  
  
"We could stay. This is Armand's house. He still welcomes you, no?"  
  
"He welcomes everyone. But Armand is hardly in a position to be neutral. Don't play stupid, Eric. This may be a brave new world, but it's still a coven." A pause. "I tire of covens."  
  
"Fine," Eric sighs, letting Santino pull him to his feet. He squeezes Santino's shoulder briefly, comfortingly. "We'll go home."


End file.
